The Project
by fizzyglitter
Summary: Muggles find out about the wizarding world and disaster reigns. Voldemort is suddenly at the peak of his powers and this time the muggles know what's going on. Not cool. Who is this man that the aurors found at one of the death eater crime scenes? Work In
1. Default Chapter

A/N: Hey. I haven't written a fanfic for a long time, and this fanfic is written during/after my writers block, so if anything looks odd please bear with me. I hope you all enjoy the Prologue and continue to read. If you review you're an Angel.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not claim to own any of the characters that were mentioned in the Harry Potter books, nor the original idea (and books) that this fic is based on.  
  
The Project  
  
Prologue  
  
It was wishful thinking when everyone thought that no-one had really been going to look into investigating the interesting phenomenon of the day when Harry Potter Lived. Naivety such as that was the trap that led the wizarding world to the state that it presently sinks into. Their world is nothing like it had ever been before. Wether it was for good or bad, nobody feels as if they can tell…  
  
George Jefferies was a New York Journalist who didn't know what he was getting into the day that curiosity overcame him about the rain of shooting stars, which so far was supposed to be scientifically impossible.   
  
Which he found positively intriguing, of course.   
  
So, he chose to delve into things that were not his business. He created The Project, with a group of scientists, journalists and specialists on supernatural phenomenon and many other people with varied talents and traits. To this day he may or may not exist, but the only person who knows whether or not is….  
  
*  
  
Terry Boot hung his coat on the hook near the door and slumped into a large leather armchair. He had had long, hard day at work and he was exhausted. Waving his wand he dried himself off. It was raining outside; another miserable autumn day in England. Gee, he could hardly wait for the next day.   
  
Life generally pissed off Terry Boot, but even though he hated to admit it he had something to look forward to. In a week it was his 20th Birthday.   
  
Terry thought his friends were probably going to throw him a surprise party again. They had either tried, attempted or successfully given him a party every year and since 20 was a nice round number, he thought that they would probably attempt something different for once.  
  
Running his hands through his now dry dark hair he stared into his fireplace and ignited it with another swish of his wand. He stared at his wand and sighed, wondering how muggles got through their day without one.  
  
Terry Boot would know of course. His father had been in the ministry too, and had investigated some muggle matters. He was the guy that when people found out about the wizarding world, he would come knocking on their doors muttering "obliviate."  
  
He had been away from home often, but the fun thing was that his father sometimes let slip accidentally about what he was working on at the moment. Some of the matters were quite large and featured in the Daily Prophet. He had loved his father very much. He had died last year. It was a devastating time, even though he never let it on to others. He had managed to cope with it rather well. Very bravely indeed, as some people would put it. He just shrugged and went on with the day.  
  
Any more catastrophes would probably end him off, as some others would say. He didn't like them very much. It was as if they were running around him waiting for him to fall.   
  
He switched on the wizarding wireless network and reclined his armchair, trying to relax. He sank into the music as he closed his eyes. Things were very hectic at work.  
  
He sat there for about an hour, just listening to the music and drinking some coffee, which he conjured from thin-air. He was very good in school; he received top scores and did well in his N.E.W.T.S. He was a favourite of Professor Dumbledore's. His parents, Arthur and Mary were very proud of him. Even some of the more arrogant Slytherins walked up to him on his last day, and said he didn't do too badly for someone with tainted blood. He would always remember that moment. Even though the Slytherin did call him by his real name, which he hates. His friends way back in first year had given him a nickname; Omega. Generally, it was just making fun about how negative Terry is. Omega; the end, death and generally all things negative. Leave it to a Ravenclaw to think of that nickname.  
  
Terry got up from his armchair with much effort. Walking towards his room, he fetched his favourite quill he likes to use at home, and his inkpot. Making his way back into the front room, he sat down at his desk and shot some flame towards the hearth on the opposite wall. Pulling his work towards him from his bag he'd dumped near his desk, he got to work. 


	2. Interrogation

A/N: Hey. I've finally continued! I had a bit of a drama. I couldn't remember the history of one of my characters! But now that I have recreated it I can now continue with the fic. How groovy is that? Anyway, I've tried to make my first chapter reasonably long. I hope you readers enjoy it. A lot of work has gone into this storyline (well, more work than I usually put in) J

As I said before. ENJOY!

Chapter One:

Terry walked into work that morning with the normal spring in his step – not much of a spring at all, really. He greeted all his friends and sat down in his normal booth, and looked around at his walls. He was tracking a particularly slippery death eater, who hardly ever made appearances at all. It was very hard work, just because of that. Although sometimes he would send letters to the ministry – to Terry, just to taunt him. Na na na na na, basically. Terry rolled his eyes at the various notes tacked around his booth. 

He looked at the map of the world, with little red flashing dots all over it. Slumping back in his chair, he started to join the dots in his head. Something he did when he was bored and basically had nothing to do. He shook his head vigorously as if to tell himself to pay attention, and he started working. But he was interrupted by a booming voice over the loudspeakers. He frowned. This didn't sound very good. 

"_Auror__ damage squad please report to the main entrance, bring wands and cloaks etcetera, muggle clothing required…_"

The voice stopped and petered out. Terry could just hear the sound waves exiting the building as they bounced off the walls. They voice was that loud. He massaged his ears, and made a mental note to petition for quieter notifications. 

"Oy, Omega!" yelled a black haired witch over the din, from the booth opposite. She was wearing a long trench coat and her hand found a pocket where she pocketed her wand. "You coming or what?" she asked him impatiently. 

"Yeah, sure Martha. Just give me a second." And he got up and put on his muggle coat, and pocketed his wand in a similar fashion. He followed her out of the booths and down to the hallway outside the aurors' office. 

"What do you reckon's happened this time?" Martha asked, voicing a concern that was playing in her head.

"I don't know, but it doesn't sound good." He replied.

"It never sounds good." Said Martha, in a gloomy voice. Quite out of the ordinary for her. Martha was always the complete opposite of Terry. She was always disgustingly cheerful, which was her way of dealing with the world as it presently is. Terry admires her that way, as he fears that he could never be like that.

"What's up?" he asked as they entered the elevator with as many other aurors as the lift could fit. 

"Oh, nothing. I just hate these attacks." She sighed. 

"Don't worry, it'll be fine." He lied.  

"Thanks," she replied, knowing he was lying but smiled anyway.

The lift kept going down and down on the express, since they were urgently needed. The paper notices fluttering above in the top of the lift had to wait until next time their level came by. 

They hit ground floor, and the rattling doors opened and closed when they had all filed out. As it started to float upwards again, they met the head of the department to hear about what was going on. They waited for all the other aurors to make their way down. It didn't take a lot of time. There weren't as many aurors left as there used to be in the damage control squad. Damage control was such a stupid word for what they had to do.

"Now, we have had reports of death eaters terrorising muggles in London, we do not know about casualties yet but we do know they bloody well have been going to town. Brace yourselves, gents – ladies. This is gonna be a helluva night." Said the grey-haired wizard that was informing them. "I brought a portkey. Everyone hold on, it's leaving in about a minute." 

They all grabbed hold of the very large old shoe. It was a good thing they got a large old shoe, too. Even though their masses were depleted, there were still a lot of aurors. 

The whole minute was like a lifetime. They all knew what they were going to face, and they knew it was going to be ugly. Nobody liked the job they were doing, but they did this particular job because they were the toughest aurors in the ministry. The most able to deal with this sort of thing. 

The portkey finally started and they all felt jolts around their middles and they were all pulled through a whirlpool of light, until they finally felt their feet jam to the ground in the place where they were supposed to be. Their informant did not come with them. It was always too dangerous for someone not trained to be in this situation to come.

The aurors turned around to drink in their surroundings. It was still daylight, but where they were it was overcast and gloomy. It was practically dark in the street where they were standing. It was quite fitting. Their eyes finally caught what they were sent there for. Terry didn't know how he could have missed it in the first place. Of course that was until they heard someone scream.

It was a horrendous sight.

Muggles on the ground, blood everywhere. Some bodies were decapitated, losing limbs… Even though scenes like this were common in the modern world, this seemed to be worse than usual somehow. Martha winced, and some of the fresher daises on the damage control team looked as if they were about to throw up. 

Terry looked around for the culprit, but didn't see anything. He cursed under his breath, wishing they'd given descriptions of the wizards or witches who had caused this.

"Split up, everyone," came a voice from the back. The assigned superior had started giving orders. "We need to catch these bastards. Split into pairs, stay together. We don't want to clean up any more body parts off the road." The voice ordered.

Banishing the nice graphic image from their minds, they split into pairs. Terry went with Martha, and they took out their wands and started scaling the walls and edging about corners, making sure to be unseen. They slipped around another corner into a dark alley, figuring that that's where anything dark would be going on if there was any.

They came to the end of the alley, and thinking they saw movement on the right. They followed the movement, trying to keep in the shadows of the dumpster. Suddenly they heard footsteps.

Omega, his heart drumming in his chest, held his wand at the ready and glanced at Martha, and nodded at her when she held up three fingers. 

One finger down…

Footsteps ever nearer now.

Two fingers down…

Coming ever closer.

Three fingers down…

The footsteps were just a metre away by now.

They jumped out from behind the dumpster, brandishing their wands and standing in the duellist stance. They stared ahead of them at the person in front of them. 

His hair was long down to his jaw but it was matted as if it hadn't been brushed for a matter of days. His amber eyes darted about as if looking for an exit, as he held his wand in front of him in a pale, steady hand. 

"Drop the wand!" Martha ordered.

The amber eyes darted around more rapidly as he backed away.

"Stay where you are." Omega ordered.

His eyes stopped darting and he looked straight at them. The stare he gave them was penetrating and cold, despite the warm colour of his eyes. He smirked.

Then he turned tail and ran.

They shot their curses after the man but to no avail, he managed to disappear around the corner. They ran after him and just as he was turning the next corner they just managed to hit him. He fell, frozen to the ground – stunned. Ropes shot out of their wands and they bound his hands and feet, and they carried his limp body back to the commander where they were told to report back if they found anything or ran out of luck. 

They set his body at the bottom of the wall where he slumped down in a dead slouch.

The man in charge came to look him over, and checked his arm for the dark mark. He frowned. It wasn't there. It was unusual for a captive not to have the dark mark… but he decided to keep him prisoner anyway, as he was at the scene of the crime and certainly not acting like an innocent man.

They returned to the ministry later that morning. They had only found two other people than the man from the alley, which they all weren't too happy about. It was a 'poor catch', as the head of their unit liked to call it. But they were still to be questioned under the influence of veritaserum wether they were innocent or not, just to be sure.

The first two were certain death eaters, and they just interrogated them to see who sent them and why. The third man, with the amber eyes was particularly interesting, however. Not a death eater, on the run, at the scene…

They questioned him in a room to the side of the offices, which was secure and curse-proof just in case. The room was enchanted so that whilst inside the room nobody would be able to attack anybody else verbally or physically. It was quite useful.

The commander uncorked a small vial, and tipped the contents down amber eyes' throat. 

"_Enervate_!" he muttered, pointing the wand at the man who was sitting in the chained seat, and he came to. His eyelids fluttered and opened, and he lifted his head so his face was visible through his brown hair and he looked around the room in a panicked sort of way, taking in the shackles on his hands and feet and the table he was sitting at, not to mention the wizards standing around.

"Good Morning, Sunshine." Said the man at the opposite side of the desk he was sitting at. "We'd like to ask a few questions, if you don't mind." 

He didn't wait for an answer.

"What is your name?"

"Andrew Hopkins."

"What's your age?"

"Nineteen."

"What were you doing at the crime scene?"

"Running from the people that were after me."  
"Who was after you?"

"Muggles."

"Why were they running after you?" 

"They want to know more about our kind." He answered, his eyes widened as he realised how much he was saying.

"Who are these people?"

"Scientists."

"Tell us all about what happened."

"They captured me. When I was with them they conducted tests, examining my wand and taking blood to look at. They found out all about our kind by questioning. They have many tortures as effective as the cruciatus curse." He paused. "They were running after me after I escaped. They had allied themselves with Death Eaters after what I had told them about the wizarding world. They must have looked into everything."

"How did they know how to capture you?" 

"Apparently they'd been researching the wizarding world since the shooting stars they saw when Harry Potter was born. Only last year did their research reach a climax when they became more bold and decided to capture one of us. Half a year later the scientists started tracking my movements. They eventually caught me. I have been there since."

The ministry officials sat back in their chairs or leaned against the wall if they were chair-less. This business about the muggles knowing about the wizarding world was big bad news and they all knew it. It was overwhelming just thinking of how they were going to cover it all up. By the sounds of it a lot of people already knew about the wizarding world. By the sounds of it these people were in it for the money and the fame, and wouldn't hesitate in publishing their research to newspapers.

They had to think fast.

The man paused for a moment, then said, "How did they target you?" 

"My family was friends with the lead scientist before he found out about the wizarding world and eventually, after he had been observing the wizarding world for some time he worked out somehow that I am, indeed, a wizard and they waited until I finished my schooling and then abducted me when I was out shopping in the muggle world." 

The interrogator paused again. "And who is this 'family friend' you speak of? Do you know or remember his name?" 

"His name escapes me. I think they found some sort of way to erase my mind every time I found out something new. I haven't the slightest idea about what else they did there besides experiments and I have no idea who was taking part." 

The many men in the room leaned back or sat back in their chairs again. 

"You are hereby dismissed. You shall be kept in captivity until we know exactly what is going on here. Thank-you for your assistance." Said the man opposite him, and some of the men surrounding the walls took Anthony and escorted him towards the (nicer) rooms where they hold the prisoners.


End file.
